


Two-Faced

by Alley_Walk (AlleyWalk_writes)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Genderfluid Harry Potter, Harry Potter-centric, Harry identifies female as Harry and male as Rigel, M/M, Multi, POV Multiple, Post-Futile Facade, Rigel Black Chronicles AU, Shapeshifter Culture, Sirius and Remus are Archie's biological fathers, Superpowers, Werewolf Harry Potter, because MAGIC, lycanthropy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23055931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleyWalk_writes/pseuds/Alley_Walk
Summary: Harry Potter is many things.Halfblood. Liar. Potioneer. Empath. Male. Female.And now also apparently a werewolf. None of these things by themselves are going to help her acheive her dreams, but Harry will move mountains in order to reach her goal.It's Harry's fifth year, and strange things are stirring in the depths of Hogwarts. Secrets that were best left obscured by darkness are coming out into the light, and when the fire rages, Harry won't be the only one to get burned.
Relationships: Alasana "Alice" Selwyn/Edmund Rookwood/Aldon Rosier, Archie Black/Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson & Harry Potter & Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy/Rigel Black | Harry Potter, Harry Potter & Aldon Rosier, Harry Potter & Archie Black, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Lionel "Leo" Hurst/Harry Potter (queerplatonic), Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter | Rigel Black, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	1. Kickoff

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Pureblood Pretense](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/39096) by murkybluematter. 
  * Inspired by [The Serpentine Supterfuge](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/565216) by murkybluematter. 
  * Inspired by [The Ambiguous Artifice](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/565219) by murkybluematter. 
  * Inspired by [The Futile Facade](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/565222) by murkybluematter. 



> Hey, y'all! 
> 
> So, this fic is inspired by a series called The Rigel Black Chronicles over on FF.net written by murkybluematter. Some characters are directly taken from murkybluematter's work, including Harry's characterization. They gave express permission for people to write fan works of their works, which I am using gladly, because I just don't have enough Rigel in my life. (Even after reading the fan works).
> 
> Understandably, if you haven't read the series there will be some characters you won't recognize and some worldbuilding that won't make sense at first. However I'm going very AU from murkybluematter's works which means everything will probably be explained at least once. For people who have read it: we're basically going to be skipping ahead to year five, though the first and second chapters are basically brief introductory chapters for what's to come. Like I said, this is majorly AU.
> 
> With that said, please enjoy! ^_^

It had been Harry’s idea first. Ever since their childhood friend Ravindra had died of the Gifted Sickness and Archie hadn't, Archie had felt a desperate need to minimize the casualties of the Gifted Sickness, or even cure the sickness altogether. Harry wanted to go to Hogwarts, because the greatest Potions Master of all time, Master Snape, taught there. And while a top of the line Healing Program was taught at AIM, his dads were concerned about him being so far from home on full moon nights. 

There was also the fact of the laws put into place by the S.O.W party. Only Purebloods could go to Hogwarts, and Harry was many things, but a Pureblood was not one of them. With Archie’s lineage in mind, the solution to that was easy. All they had to do was switch places. Harry could go to Hogwarts as Archie while Archie went to AIM as Harry. There was Archie's Lycanthropy to consider, but luckily there was an easy way around the problem.

'Born Wolves', as Archie and other werewolves born from a werewolf parent were called, were yet another point of controversy in the Wizarding Community. Born Wolves couldn't just pass along Lycanthropy. They also benefited from biting people in that, just from biting one person, they no longer felt the moon's pull. This meant that they effectively did not need to transform during the full moon, though shapeshifting at other times was still possible.

Harry and Archie had decided to capitalize on that.

So it was that as the full moon rose in the sky at exactly 5:55 p.m a week before Harry’s and Archie’s eleventh birthdays that Harry and Archie sat in Archie’s transformation room, Archie having just swallowed a Wolfsbane potion a half hour before with the smell of a fresh deer carcass lying on the floor in wait of Archie’s transformation. Harry had placed the decoy Wolfsbane potion on the coffee table inside the room (just in case), sitting on the couch next to Archie who was clad in a bathrobe, trying to lend his aching joints her warmth and get him to eat something. 

Archie swallowed nervously as he looked at the clock. 

_5:57 p.m_

“Are you ready?” He asked.

Harry smiled reassuringly and nudged him playfully. “Don't worry, I'll be fine. What about you? Are _you_ ready?”

Archie smiled at her, faintly amused. “You’re radiating an awful lot of concern there, cuz.”

Harry huffed, flushing. She pushed at his shoulder, albit gently. “See if I ever feel concerned about you again.” She teased.

While Archie might only have a Healing gift, Harry’s ‘Empathy’ gift had mutated over the years for no discernable reason so that sometimes people could perceive or experience her own emotions.

It was more useful than it sounded.

They both looked at the clock. 

_5:58 p.m_

“It’s showtime.” Archie said with false cheerfulness, though Harry could see the strained edges of his smile. Harry nodded and gave a reassuring smile, giving his hand one last squeeze before they both got up off of the couch and into the open space provided for Archie’s wolf. Archie had gotten a separate room to himself from Remus to transform in on the understanding that Harry always made sure that he took his Wolfsbane potion, Harry being seen as the more responsible of the two. Of course, she wasn’t supposed to be _in here_ with Archie while he was transformed, but she’d done it enough times not to feel too guilty about it.

Archie disrobed, draping the bathrobe carefully over the couch as if he couldn’t bare to let it be marred by the perfectly clean floors. Harry was long used to the necessity of nudity when it came to werewolf transformations, so she met Archie’s eyes and gave him a smile. Archie smiled back weakly, only for his head to snap up, his head cocking as if listening to something. Harry glanced at the clock.

_6:00 p.m_

Archie’s back arched and he gave a cry of pain, his bones grinding and shifting as they reshaped themselves, his jaw lengthening as fangs sprouted from his maw, a tail stretching out from his tailbone. Muscles flowed and sild beneath his skin as he settled down to all fours, black fur spreading out along his spine, swelling and thickening, before expanding and branching out all across his body from his snout to his ears down to the very tip of his tail. 

Harry met his golden eyes, the more wolf-like werewolf on all fours reaching about stomach height. Archie padded closer, his eyes slightly hesitant. Harry huffed in exasperation and scratched him behind the ears, earning a low, anxious whine. “It'll be fine. Don't worry so much.” Harry reassured him.

Harry held out her left forearm towards Archie’s jaws, waiting. Archie’s ears flattened, his tail between his legs as he whimpered. Harry's heart went out to him, but at the same time, she knew they had to do this. She stood there stubbornly, staring into golden eyes that would soon become hers. After a few minutes Archie bucked up and straightened, though his whole body was shaking, and if his body could cry she thought he would have. 

Harry threaded her fingers through the ruff of his neck, bending down to press her forehead against his and closing her eyes. Archie breathed in her scent, something that always comforted him, she knew. She straightened, one hand still threaded into his fur. She smiled at him, and after a few minutes he straightened. He opened his great maw, settling his jaws almost gently against her skin. Then came the pain.

If Harry hadn't readied herself, she surely would have screamed. As it was, she gasped as Archie bit down, wickedly sharp teeth slicing through flesh and muscle like a hot knife through butter. Blood welled from the wound as Archie released her, drip-drip-dripping onto the stone floor below. 

She saw Archie's worried look but could barely comprehend it, liquid fire pouring through her veins with every rapid beat of her heart. She felt like she was burning from the inside out. A star, about to explode into a supernova.

But she could feel the fire-blood-pain leaking out of her wound-plan-gift, so she scrambled desperately for the first aid kit that was always nearby for emergency-pain-safety, though in this case it was more like convenience-plan-necessity. She sloppily wrapped the bandages around the wound, securing them in place with hands that were sticky with victory-plan-blood. Brother-cousin-friend looked at her with worried golden eyes, and she crouched down and nuzzled him in reassurance. Brother-cousin-friend whined in worry-confusion-concern, before he herded her towards a wonderful-soft-comfortable nest where he curled up around her, Harry pressing herself close against his side, somehow feeling cold even with the heat running through her.

She shivered all throughout the night, cold seeping into her bones with the heat slowly leeching from her veins, leaving her cold and empty and so very, very weak.

Harry woke up the next morning, opening her eyes blearily to the grinding and shifting of bone on bone. Harry watched, not looking away from her cousin's pain until he finally stood on two legs instead of four. Harry smiled at him and climbed to her feet from the dog bed Uncle Sirius had gotten Archie as half joke, half worry over his son's departure from his father's transformation room.

Archie smiled wearily back, and then his stomach rumbled and he flushed. "I'll go get you something to eat." Harry said, but Archie caught her by the arm.

"Wait." When she shot him an annoyed look, he said with uncharacteristic seriousness, "we need to check the bandages first to make sure it's healing well."

Pausing for a moment to unwrap the bandages, at first all Harry could see was a whole lot of dried, crusted blood. Washing it off with an _Augmenti,_ her forearm was bared to reveal a shiny white scar in the shape of Archie's jaws. Harry blinked at it for a moment, a sense of surrealism overcoming her for a moment before the world settled again back to its bland normality. She could deal with this.

She had to.

* * *

“Harry!” A little girl in with long black hair in a bloodstained hospital gown twirled around to smile at her. “Harry, come this way!”

“Ravin… Ravindra! Wait up!” Harry said with a grin, running after her. Suddenly she was in the hallways of Hogwarts, chasing the elusive waif of a girl through the hallways and down and down all of the moving staircases, laughing with her and following a trail of blood that lead down deep into the dungeons.

And then suddenly she stepped on something that cracked and crumbled beneath her foot, and she looked down and her heart dropped like a stone. Underneath her foot was a human skull, the skullcap and face caved in beneath her foot while the skull grinned and grinned and grinned. 

A shiver crawled it’s way down Harry’s spine, and then Ravindra screamed, “Harry, get away from there!” A dark shadow coalesced and loomed above Harry, grasping claws reaching for her. She fumbled for her wand only for it to fall from her nerveless grip. The darkness coiled around itself and then lunged, and Harry’s eyes snapped open. She looked around at the darkness of her bedroom, her breathing quick and her heart beating erratically in her chest. She got up and lit a _lumos_ charm with her wand, just to prove she could, and checked all the shadows in the room. Midway through she shook her head and told herself she was being silly, put her wand by her bedside, and got back in bed.

She never fell back asleep, even after she stowed her wand underneath her pillow.

* * *

**September 1st, 1991**

Harry and Archie sat side by side at the breakfast table, the stolen Polyjuice Potion burning a hole through the pocket of Harry’s robes. She fiddled with her new wand, Holly and Phoenix Feather, under the table. The wand thrummed in her hand, and something inside her thrummed along with it. Harry had wanted to get her ingredients from the apothecary as soon as possible, but because Archie was there he had insisted she wait until Ollivander found her the right fit, which frankly took forever.

She swore her ingredients suffered because of it.

“This new legislation isn’t _that_ bad, Lils.” Dad said consolingly after swallowing some eggs via Sirius and Mum’s combined cooking skills.

“ _Not that bad?_ This is the worst legislation to be passed by the Wizengamot since the ban against Halfbloods and Muggleborns from going to Hogwarts, and it’s entirely our fault this time!” Mom said, her eyes flashing dangerously.

Uncle Remus coughed. “I agree. Setting aside the Light faction’s good intentions, I think the results of the law are quite clear.” 

Just then there was a loud _CRACK_. Everyone in the dining room tensed slightly, Sirius scowling darkly as muttering could be heard from the kitchen, as well as the sound of things being riffled through and moved about. Harry put her wand back in her pocket. It frustrated her, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good. She wasn’t even sure she wanted it to. Remus took Sirius’s hand underneath the table as there was a loud crashing noise and the sound of breaking glass. 

Similar destruction was heard throughout the house, and Sirius gritted his teeth and squeezed Remus’s hand underneath the table, Harry and Archie meeting each other’s eyes, Archie in fear and Harry in reassurance. They gripped each other’s hands, Harry squeezing Archie’s hand gently as her cousin tried not to cry. It was Grimmauld Place, after all. His home, with all of his possessions, not Harry’s.

The perpetrator finally Apparated in, and he was still just as unnerving as he looked before. Where before the creature had looked small and weak there was now a lean musculature to him, with teeth like a shark’s, black claws, with angry slitted eyes that were once large and round. His head was less bulbous, his body more streamlined. He wore an oversized black robe that his former owner had given him, someone Sirius had sold him to who ‘seemed like a nice bloke.’

Kreacher sneered at them and then snapped his fingers. The dining room table split in two and then collapsed on top of them, food sliding every which way as their chairs disintegrated into dust, Harry falling to the floor and promptly being pinned underneath the table. A bowl of Yorkshire Pudding slid towards her, and Harry begged the bowl silently with her eyes not to come any closer. Kreacher smirked at her, as if guessing her thoughts, and he snapped his fingers again. Harry clamped her eyes shut as the pudding catapulted into the air, falling onto her face and dripping into her hair.

She sighed.

This day just couldn’t get any better, could it?

* * *

Thirteen-year-old Aldon Rosier sat on a stool in front of his bureau, glancing down every once and a while at Remus Lupin’s _Werewolves, Vampires, and Dhampirs: What To Do And What Not To Do_ , practicing his painfully tight-lipped smile in the gilt mirror before him that he’s worn since the age of five. Once he was satisfied, Aldon took his hairbrush and ran it delicately through his long black hair, combing out the knots with care. He wished Cordia or Sainher were here to do it, but he supposed what was done was done. 

He resisted the urge to bare his teeth at the thought of what Dumbledore’s Light faction had done. Passing a law that forced the noble houses to free their house elves, simply ridiculous, and they can see how that had gone. Shaking his head, Aldon looked at the ribbon in his hand, a gold one, to match his eyes, and put it back neatly in his bureau drawer where it had been before, just in case. He could always leave it loose for his first day of Hogwarts; it wouldn’t be an issue either way.

Opening his pocket watch to check the time, Aldon decided he could get a bit more reading done before he was required to go to breakfast. He scanned the words, and as ever, Remus Lupin’s friendly, open minded approach to XXXXX Dark Creatures immediately drew him in.

_The thing you have to know about vampires is, is that they’re not bad, per se. They’re aggressive and thirst for blood, and they have a complicated culture that is easily offended. However some vampires can be perfectly reasonable, and I have, in fact, had quite a few amiable conversations with some I call if not friends, then allies. However, just because these vampires are friendly does not mean you should not be wary around them. Vampires often have agendas of their own, whether mundane or otherwise, and letting your guard down around them would not be wise. If you were to fight one, I would suggest caution. Vampires, in their old age, are very hard to surprise, thus creativity in battle must be used to ever get the upper hand._

_Dhampirs, the vampire’s younger cousin, are much less experienced. Being new to vampirism, if they were to attack you could likely still take them by surprise with a light or sound based spell, as a dhampir’s senses are just as acute as a vampire’s. A Killing Curse would put a dhampir down for a time, but would cause them to rise again as a much stronger opponent; that being a vampire itself. That being, this course of action is not advised, and a strong cutting curse towards the neck in the form of decapitation would be much more effective…_

Aldon looked up at the sound of wings beating through the air. His Great Horned Owl Fang alighted on his desk, hooting at him reprovingly. Aldon looked down at his watch. It was nearly time to leave for the Hogwarts Express. Aldon smiled at Fang, stroking her feathers lightly, and took one last look at the boy in the mirror across from him. His honey-brown eyes looked oddly sad. 

* * *

_‘Remember, all you have to do is “be completely normal, but also absolutely stunning.”’_ Came Fang's mocking thoughts, and Aldon could feel in a distant way as she winged her way towards Hogwarts, already hundreds of miles away.

Aldon sighed at the thought of what his parents had told him before Apparating him here to Kings Cross Station. How he was supposed to both be completely normal and yet absolutely stunning Aldon didn't know, but he supposed he would try to do his best, just as he had done every year before this one. Muddling his way through the thick throng of people, Aldon ignored the numerous sounds of heartbeats resounding in his ears and blood rushing through people’s veins that were much too close for comfort. With much effort he finally made his way to platform 9 ¾, ignoring the hubbub around him to straighten his robes – fresh from Twilfit and Tattings – and fix his hair. 

He took a confident step forward when his wrist was suddenly seized in a bruising grip. He cried out in alarm and looked behind him, but there was no one there. An icy cold finger trailed its way down his spine as a chill crawled up his arm and seeped into his bones, a pervading fear gripping his heart like a vice. _“Don’t… go…”_ A rattling voice whispered in his ear, their breath like ice across the back of his neck. Aldon shivered, and then his eyes widened. His survival instincts somewhat belatedly kicked in, and he twisted his way out of their grip. Hot lines of fire scored down his arm as he broke into a run, passing through the barrier with relief. The throng of people around him were most definitely witches and wizards now, so Aldon slowed, his body gradually warming from its icy chill from before. 

He moved rather erratically through the crowd, just in case that… whatever that was, was still following him. It was best to err on the side of caution in any case. When he was satisfied that he was not being followed, Aldon made his way towards the Hogwarts Express, his wrist throbbing painfully. He was lucky to find Ed in the hallway of the train and they both went on a search for Alice, quickly finding her intimidating two third year Ravenclaws into giving up their seats.

“Well cousin, you’re looking well.” Aldon remarked, amused, just as the train lurched into motion beneath their feet.

Alice lifted an eyebrow and then snorted. “I wish I could say the same for you, _cousin_.” Alice said, placing caustic emphasis on her wording.

Aldon winced. He knew they had long passed such formalities, but it seemed he had fallen back on their familiarity in light of his encounter with that strange… whatever it was. It didn’t help that Alice hated formalities of any kind, outside of their obvious necessities at the Galas and other social events.

Aldon grimaced. “My apologies, Alice. Shall we take our seats?”

Alice rolled her eyes and slouched down into the seat adjacent to Ed. Aldon sat in the relatively comfortable booth next to Ed, checking the seats for grime with a moue of distaste. He was much more used to his parent’s own Abraxan drawn carriages, where at least cleanliness was assured. But, well, it couldn’t be helped.

“Alice is right, Aldon. You are looking a bit ruffled.” Ed said, settling his calm brown eyes on him with a hint of concern on his face, and Aldon cursed himself.

Aldon looked away. He heard a faint noise but dismissed it as unimportant, lost in his own thoughts. “I may have been… waylaid at the barrier.” He admitted, rubbing at his injured wrist absentmindedly, which still gave a horrid throb. Ed lifted his hand away and gently peeled back the sleeve of his robes, a look of concentration on his face. Aldon winced as the fabric pulled at his skin, revealing a purpling bruise in the shape of a hand around his wrist and claw marks down his arm from where he had broken free.

Ed sucked in a breath and sat back, Alice’s face stormy. “Who did it?” She asked.

“I don’t know. I couldn’t get a good enough look at them.” Aldon answered. “It almost seemed as if they were invisible.”

Ed opened his mouth to reply when a new voice said, “If they were invisible, they could have been using an invisibility cloak.” Aldon’s head snapped up towards the new person in the room as a heartbeat and circulatory system that he had since been made unaware of flooded his senses. He examined the slight first year across from him, evaluating his deep golden eyes and taking in his short messy black hair. The boy had an odd sulfur-herb smell, combined with the smell of paper and old books. It wasn’t an unpleasant smell, not with Ed’s animal and fried tomatoes smell and Alice’s forest and spilled ink smell, but it was distinctly different from what he was used to. 

And he had golden eyes. While Aldon wasn’t prone to keeping track of shifter blood, he had a passing relationship with Lady Zabini. And since he looked nothing like her, that most likely meant… 

“Why Arcturus Black, as I live and breathe.” Aldon said, standing and giving a courtly bow, one of thirty degrees, from one pureblood to another. Arcturus stood and did the same, though somewhat stiffly, which allowed Aldon to catch a faint smell of werewolf underneath the strong scent of herbs and sulfur.

“It’s Rigel.” Arcturus – no, _Rigel_ said with a faint hint of annoyance before his face smoothed back into neutrality again.

“Rigel, then.” Aldon said easily. He assumed this was something Rigel had to correct fairly often. “If you don’t mind us asking…” 

“How did you sneak by us?” Ed piped in.

“Unless of course, _you’re_ the one with the invisibility cloak.” Aldon teased.

Rigel’s golden eyes widened and he tilted his head in the picture of perfect innocence, and Aldon just knew this year was going to be very interesting indeed.

* * *

Rigel separated from the three strange third years with a sense of relief. He hadn't expected to be pulled into such deep waters so quickly. The ruse might be good, but it wasn't perfect, not yet. If Rigel could describe it, he would say that the ruse was like an uncomfortably thick cloak settled around his shoulders, heavy and constricting. Yet there was a freedom there too, a protection as treacherous as a double edged sword.

The Black Lake made him nervous, especially with the strange yet dubious comfort of the fourth years not around. He wasn’t sure if he missed them or not, to be honest. Rosier had been a bit unsettling, especially since he smelled of something that was of definitive Creature blood but nothing Rigel had ever smelled before (which wasn’t saying much considering he’d only ever smelled a werewolf before).

Which had been a major flaw in their plan, because no matter how much Rigel brewed until it smelled like he practically bathed in potions, Uncle Remus had a far more experienced nose than either Rigel or Archie. In the end, they played it off as an accident during rough housing and that they didn’t tell because they didn’t want to get Archie in trouble, and the only reason _Uncle Remus_ didn’t tell was because he didn’t want to cause strife between the two families. In the end he just promised to send ‘Harry’ Wolfsbane potions through owl post and told ‘Archie’ to grin and bear it through the potions Professor Snape would be giving him and to transform on the full moon willingly.

(No school would accept a Creature who had bitten someone, Pureblood or not).

Rookwood had seemed okay, but Selwyn had come off as outright hostile, though Rigel wasn’t sure if she meant to be that way or if that was just her default state. He finally settled into a boat full of blonde first years. There was a girl sitting across from him with honey blonde hair in a cute bob cut, with deep blue eyes and aristocratic features set in a soft face; a sweet, innocent air about her. Next to him was a boy with deep brown skin and light blond hair, golden eyes that had oblong pupils and sharp cheekbones with a rounded chin. Based on his eyes and his smell, he was some sort of shifter, likely cat-like. On his other side was a boy with platinum blond hair and slate grey eyes, with sharp cheekbones and a pointed chin that was softened by leftover baby fat, an air of arrogance and superiority about him that instantly put Rigel’s teeth on edge. 

While he was silently assessing them, they had been silently assessing him. The boats had long lurched into motion, moving in tandem smoothly along the surface of the water as its face reflected the glow of the moon and stars like a mirror, causing Rigel to shiver with a cold he didn’t feel as he looked up at the waxing gibbous moon. The other shifter must have noticed his trepidation, because he held his hand out and said with an open smile, “Blaise Zabini.”

Rigel gave him a small smile and gripped Blaise’s wrist in the formal greeting of one shifter to another. Blaise gave him an enigmatic smile and gripped back, and when they let go they lifted up their hands to take in each other’s scents. Blaise smelled of a subtle cologne as well as a rich scent mixed in with the burnt cinnamon smell that Rigel associated with his Mum’s complicated research into Runic magic. Rigel raised an eyebrow at Blaise and Blaise raised an eyebrow right back; no doubt he had deduced his predilection for Potions for as much as Archie always claimed he reeked of them.

The platinum blond boy has an eyebrow raised in incredulity, no doubt wondering why they would engage in what he would see as a ‘commoner’s handshake.’ The girl surprised Rigel by holding out a carefully manicured hand towards him with a kind smile. “Pansy Parkinson.” Rigel gripped her by the wrist and she gave him a beaming smile. She, evidently, knew what the handshake meant.

She held out her hand to Blaise next who took it with good grace as the other boy fumed across from him. Pansy smelled of the crisp forest air and the autumn leaves, with a faint flowery perfume that was luckily very mild. “I’m Draco Malfoy.” Draco said, his voice clipped as he clearly tried to be polite.

He did not offer his hand.

He really didn’t _need_ to, but Pansy said, tipping her head towards Rigel, “Aren’t you going to be polite, Malfoy?”

“What do you mean?” Draco asked. 

Pansy smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, I just thought you knew. In shifter culture, a greeting by touch is a way of passing along scent, which is a way of establishing roads of trust and alliances. It’s beneficial because if you were ever in danger the shifter in question could find you wherever you were, but detrimental because they could also use it against you.” 

Draco’s face cleared, though he seemed almost embarrassed for a moment. “I see.” He tilted his head consideringly for a moment as he looked at Rigel, then Blaise. Clearing his throat self-importantly, he straightened and smiled, offering a hand. “I believe we got off on the wrong foot. I’m Draco Malfoy, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Rigel grasped his wrist with a small smile. “The pleasure is mine, Malfoy.” 


	2. Fifth Year: Begin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, y'all!
> 
> So, I've decided since my writing is so slow recently that I'll be giving you a few interconnected scenes at a time as a chapter, rather than the whole thing itself. It makes updates faster and puts me in a good mood since I get to update. ^_^
> 
> TW for a panic attack, but that's it.
> 
> Enjoy! ^^

Aldon Rosier was not one to be terrified by imaginary fears. He considered himself quite sensible and often scoffed at anyone spooked by their own shadow.

So why was he so afraid?

_ “Don’t… go…” _

Aldon pulled the covers up over his head and squeezed his eyes shut, his fingers and toes numb from the cold. He shivered, and if he focused on the darkness around him he could almost imagine his breath fogging out in front of him.

_ “Don’t… go…” _

A small hand touched his shoulder, leeching the warmth from his body, and Aldon shuddered.  _ Not real. Not real, not real. _ Aldon chanted.

The chill never left his bones for the rest of the night.

* * *

Standing in a stall in the men’s loo on the Hogwarts Express as the last of the Polyjuice wore off, Harry stared down the potion in her hand that had unfortunately become a necessity. When she had first created the Modified Polyjuice, it had been for herself and Archie, and therefore had both a male and female version. The Modified Polyjuice mixed their genes together to make them look more alike, though once Archie discovered his Metamorph abilities it wasn’t necessary for him to take it so long as he mirrored how Harry looked exactly.

But Harry’s body was unfortunately getting to the point where it would be a miracle to hide her gender next year. She looked down at her chest, disgruntled, as if it were at fault for her current predicament. But to be truthful, that was only half the problem. Her hips were too wide, her body too curvy. There was really only one solution, and it would last a whole year.

With a sigh, Harry dropped the fused piece of her and Archie’s hair into the potion and waited until it turned the correct shade of blue. Then she tipped the flask back and downed it in one gulp. The pain started as an uncomfortable cramping in her stomach that soon turned to fire roiling in her veins, licking against the inside of her abdomen as she grit her teeth through it. She sighed in relief as it finally passed, and then fished her compact mirror out of her pocket. 

Her eyes were a storm grey, now. Her chin was still pointed, her features still fine, but her features were less soft, more aristocratic with sharp cheekbones and a jaw that seemed more firm than before. Hesitantly she touched her chest, and felt an odd disconnected sensation of a flatness that was and wasn’t there. Shaking her head to clear it, Harry took the mirror and whispered, “Harry Potter.”

Archie’s face came into view in what looked like a small, cramped bathroom. He immediately looked relieved upon seeing her, and he scrunched up his face before his features warped and changed to match hers save for the green eyes. “Thanks, cuz. I gotta head over quick to the baggage claim.”

Harry smiled. “Of course. Talk to you later, Harry.”

Archie grinned. “Yeah, see you,  _ Rigel _ .”

Harry sighed, tucking her mirror away. Then she waited for the train to stop and disembarked along with the rest of the students, Sirius waiting for her at the platform with a huge grin on his face.

* * *

Harry had always wondered if, after the dust settled in the aftermath of the True Triwizard Tournament, she would truly have any friends left going into fifth year. After she had become the champion she had rallied her support to Dumbledore’s faction, as the new Marriage Law being pushed through the Wizengamot that would give a Halfblood no choice but to marry a Pureblood should they be asked was a danger to Harry herself as well as all Halfbloods and Muggleborns everywhere.

While the law gave the Halfbloods the same status as a Pureblood should they marry into a Pureblood line, all vaults and properties are legally handed over to the Pureblood at the time of marriage, leaving the Halfblood effectively at their mercy. This also affects the Muggleborns by isolating them from the gene pool, forcing them to marry other Muggleborns or Muggles. By banning Muggleborns and Halfbloods from Hogwarts Magical Britain had cut their population by half, leading to the Pureblood’s current struggles in having children. This law intended to fix that.

The law was overturned, but barely. 

She had sensed Riddle’s frustration and anger from across the room, and couldn’t help the satisfaction she felt at that.

Her question was answered when Archie as “Rigel” received letters from Draco, Blaise and Pansy all asking after her health and in one particularly eloquent quote from Draco,  _ “your Griffindorish escapades better not have gotten you killed, otherwise I’ll come over there and resurrect you myself.”  _ Harry had laughed and wrote that all resurrection duties were now firmly in his hands.

Her mood feeling buoyant after discovering that at least a few of her friends would stick with her through all of this, Harry decided to wander into the Lower Alleys and see how Krait was doing. Grabbing her satchel, she paused for a moment as she looked down at her chest. She had made some silicone breasts and they looked very convincing stuffed in her bra with a sticking charm putting them in place. After a moment of indecision she leaves them in. Everyone in the Lower Alleys knows she’s a girl now anyway.

Pounding down the stairs Harry heads towards the fireplace. “And where are you off to in such a hurry?” Mum asked, clearly amused. 

“Potions ingredients,” Harry said with a shrug.

Dad smiled at her. “Well off you go then, you little anklebiter.” He said, ruffling her hair. Reaching over to grab some floo powder, he threw it into the fireplace and called, “The Leaky Cauldron!” The fire flared and turned green, Harry sending her Dad a small smile as she stepped into the fireplace. She’s whirled pot over teakettle, what little breakfast she had lurching in her stomach, and is spat out on the other side a little worse for wear. Harry sneezed, dusting soot off of her robes.

Getting to her feet and making sure her satchel was still with her, Harry made her way to the back of the pub and tapped on the bricks in the correct sequence, the wall opening up before her to reveal Diagon Alley. She did make a quick stop to get ingredients, saying hello to the shop owner before making her way to the Lower Alleys. She spotted one of Leo’s spies take off at the sight of her and couldn’t help but sigh. Of course she couldn’t avoid seeing him. Things had been awkward between them last time, and Harry just hoped that whatever feelings he might have harbored for her had worn off by now.

Harry heard a familiar set of footfalls as the scent of iron and sulfur filled her nose, and she turned and smiled at Leo, surprising him from his place poised to tuck a flower behind her ear. Harry had looked up flower languages ever since that disaster at the free-dueling tournament. He was holding a purple Hyacinth carefully in his hand, which Harry found suspicious.

Harry looked at the flower with a raised eyebrow. “And just what do I have to forgive you for?”

Leo grinned, but there was something strained in his smile. “Nothing yet, I hope.” While his words were lighthearted, his emotions were guarded, wary, with a hurt in his heart so strong that for a moment a hard, hot lump formed in Harry’s throat from feeling the emotion rather than sensing it. “Can we talk?” Leo asked, and there was a determination in his eyes, a grimness to the set of his shoulders, that had dread rising in Harry’s gut.

Harry smiled at him, though she didn’t feel it. “Sure.”

Leo turned and led the way through the Alleys, and it wasn’t long before they were at Dogwood Lane and climbing up the steps to Harry’s apartment. Thank Merlin it’s been recently vacated or she’d have to explain things to her former houseguest. She budges Leo over so she can fit the key into the lock, turning the handle and opening the door to find things just as she’d left them. There was a smell there, though, Leo’s smell. He’d been here recently.

As soon as the door was closed Leo cast the locking charm as well as three privacy wards. Harry swallowed around a suddenly dry throat. She put some distance between them, her senses on high alert. “If this is what happened between us the last time we met–” Harry started. She didn’t really think it was about that, but it was a good diversion if nothing else.

Leo blinked, thrown completely off guard. “Oh, no! No no  _ no! _ ” He said, waving his arms in front of himself in denial. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Actually, me and Will…” He blushed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

Harry was about to say how happy she was for them when Leo straightened, meeting her eyes, and she felt like a deer in the headlights. “But that’s not what we’re here to talk about, is it,  _ Harry?” _ He smiled at her, but there was no mirth in his eyes. “It was shown in Diagon Alley, did you know? So everyone watched as skills I taught  _ you _ were used by  _ Rigel Black _ in the True Triwizard Tournament, and now here you are wearing fake breasts underneath your shirt – don’t even try to deny it, I’ve seen Marek in them often enough – so you tell me, Harry. Are you Rigel Black, or are you Harry Potter?” 

Harry swallowed thickly, her hands itching for a knife or a wand, even though she knew it wouldn’t do any good. She felt trapped, cornered. The room suddenly seemed smaller, as if the walls were closing in around her, and she  _ couldn’t breathe– _

There was a hand touching her shoulder and she flinched. Pettigrew was here, Pettigrew was… 

“Harry, I need you to calm down and focus on me. It’s okay. I won’t push anymore, okay? Just calm down and focus on me, on my emotions.” The voice was familiar, was soothing. It calmed the storm raging in Harry’s mind long enough for her to latch onto its emotions, a river of calm in a sea of pain and terror and weary resignation. She took a deep breath and leaned forward, feeling warmth as an arm wrapped around her shoulders. She breathed in and breathed out along with the person–Leo–as she pillowed her head against his chest and took in his comforting scent, feeling wrung out and exhausted and also inexplicably safe. 


End file.
